You’re Gonna Need Someone on Your Side
by ohsocreative
Summary: AU.Ty has returned to Jefferson changed.Hes all anyone can talk about,but Amy doesnt see the big deal.In all actuality,she feels bad for him.But she didnt expect the guy she meets.She didn't expect to hate him.And she sure as hell didnt expect to like him
1. Chapter One

**Author Note: **So, I haven't been wanting to write lately. I'll think to myself 'You really have to finish a chapter', but I just can't bring myself to do it. Well, last night I thought of this plot, and it's one of those stories that you can't forget about until you write it. It would just stay there, as a reminder, in your head. And I actually wanted to write again! So, here's that story.

**Disclaimer: **Everything that was in the Heartland books is not mine. However, everything that is unique, is. Please do not steal.

* * *

**You're Gonna Need Someone on Your Side**

**Chapter One**

_November 3__rd__, 2008_

_-Tuesday_

"Guess what?!" Soraya Martin, long dark ringlets falling around her face, trilled. Her voice was high with excitement and her eyes held a dazzling amount of exhilaration in them. You could practically feel her joy, pure joy, in the information she held and wanted to reveal.

"Spare me the dramatics, Raya." I barked, impatient, as I deposited books into my open locker. My history book, however, got stuck in an awkward position as I threw it in, and I bent down to straighten it so that it could fall somewhat nicely along the rest of the junk beneath it.

"Amy, just because you're a social exile by choice, doesn't mean everyone around you has to be," I rolled my eyes as I finally jammed the book as well as I could into place before rummaging beneath it for my biology notebook.

"I believe the term is social reject, but I sincerely appreciate your different choice of words," I straightened, closing my locker as I stood, beginning to walk down the hall towards the café.

"Sure, sure. But really, I'm your only outlet to a social life, and I'm not going to slack in my duties just because you try your hardest to convince me that you're fine without it," She fell into step with me, matching my stride evenly.

"I gave up on trying a long time ago," I sighed, walking sideways through a particularly crowded part of the hallway. Raya slid through gracefully and skipped to my side once again.

"Yeah? Good, because it was all in vain, anyway," She smiled at me, and I couldn't help but smirk back.

"So, my personal social outlet, what is it you wanted to tell me today?" I watched as her eyes widened, having forgotten the point of the conversation.

"Oh, right. Ty Baldwin is back," She watched my face for the expression she was sure would pass over it. Excitement? Surprise? Horror? Complete fascination? She got nothing.

"And?" I asked, turning a corner and bumping into Marlin Chase, who caught my arms to keep me from falling.

"You good, Ames?" He asked, smiling down at me, amused.

"Just fine, Chase." I smiled back before dislodging myself from his grip and continuing along with Soraya.

"What do you mean _and_?!" She gaped at me, undeterred by my run in with Chase. "He's back, isn't that enough?"

"I just don't see why I should care," Jenni Conners waved at me as she passed and I smiled in return.

"Amy, Ty is the _rebel_ of Jefferson," Soraya pleaded with me to understand, "Everyone's talking about it."

I rolled my eyes, "He moved. That hardly makes him badass."

"It's what he did_ after_ moving. Apparently he got into a bad group wherever he went, California, I heard, and eventually had to go to rehab," She stilled her tongue to say hi to a few passing friends, "I guess his mom sent him back to live with his dad, hoping he would settle down."

"I still don't see why this should effect me in any way," I said as we turned through the double doors of the café, heading towards our normal seats.

Soraya placed her bag down before speaking, "It doesn't really effect anyone, honestly. It's just information that I had and wanted to tell you about." She sat down and leaned forward as if she held a great secret that only we could be a part of. "Everyone is talking about it because apparently he's really changed. Physically, I mean."

I took in this information without a blink. Ty Baldwin had moved from Jefferson half-way through the eighth grade. He hadn't had many friends and no one had really noticed he had gone until nearly a month after he left. His empty seat in classes merely went unnoticed. Perhaps this was because even when he was there he was not acknowledged often. He had been short for his age, on the heavier side, and already sprouting acne along the sides of his face. No one had cared to be his friend, and when he left no one batted an eye. Now, nearly three years later, and everyone suddenly cared about him because he had gone bad and turned into some kind of mega-hottie? To be totally honest, I found that truly sad. He had to leave his hometown and totally reform to be noticed at all among those he had grown up with.

"Is he back in school?" I asked, actually feelings bad for the kid. He shouldn't of had to change to be noticed. It seemed wrong.

"I don't know, I'm assuming he'll be back soon if he isn't already," she pulled a brown paper bag from within her bookbag. "Ashley saw him at the convenient store and talked to him, I guess. That's how everyone knows he's back."

"Ashley Grant?" I questioned, smiling as a the rest of our table sat down around us.

"Yeah," She was suddenly not as into the conversation, and I decided to just let it go. Whether I felt bad or not, the information really didn't bother me or ruffle me in any way. It was just Ty Baldwin, the kid who put the wall in wallpaper.

* * *

_November 9__th__, 2008_

_-Monday_

I hummed as I stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, and headed down the hall towards my room. On the way I rapped lightly on Grandpa's door and called gently in.

"Time to wake up, old man," I heard him grumble and smiled. His alarm clock had broken ages ago and he had yet to buy a new one. I, for one, didn't mind. It was amusing being the one to wake him up. I was still smiling to myself as I let myself into my own room and flicked on the light switch. The golden yellow room was subdued in the harsh light, and nearly invisible under all the posters and random assortments of other things tacked along them. I headed towards the east wall and opened the ancient doors to reveal my closet, or lack thereof.

Most of the closet was dominated with horse related junk. There were kits for this and that, my first saddle, riding boots, and all other sorts of things. However, a small portion was stuffed haphazardly with clothes. I carelessly grabbed a pair of jeans I knew were old and faded and an even older t-shirt. I threw them on before stuffing my feet into the work boots that had been kicked off near my door. Throwing on my work jacket that hung from the chair by my desk, I hurried downstairs and out the door.

The morning air was crisp and I shivered slightly underneath my layers. November had yet to bring the first snowfall, but I knew from the chill in the air that it would only be a couple of weeks before the ground was lightly sprinkled. I walked briskly across the dirt drive that separates the farmhouse from the barns and let myself into the tack room where the air was not much warmer. I hurriedly put together feed bins for the horses and distributed them in an orderly fashion, working from experience.

After that was done I began to walk down the hall of the long barn, only stopping to check in on Lizzy, Queen Elizabeth, the ebony colored mustang we had recently taken in. Grandpa had fought me for weeks on the subject of Lizzy, claiming that one teenage girl could not undertake a rowdy mustang. Not to mention, he stated flatly, that Heartland was not built to house one. I sighed, leaning against the stall door, realizing that he may have been right. Lizzy had been trained by a professional as a young filly, but recently she had taken to her instinctual ways and began bucking and rearing her riders. I'd only had her under my care for a week and a half, but so far I had made no progress. She was unlike any horse I had ever tried to help, and I knew that her lineage was part of the reason. Were she not a mustang, gaining her trust would be a hundred times easier. The only thing I could think to do would be to find the root of her problem, the reason she had suddenly gone back to her mustang ways, to be able to conquer her fear.

As I stared in at her, Lizzy was back along the far wall. I had been sure to give her the largest stall we had, and yet she still looked as though she was trapped. Confined within four walls rather than running free along the backdrop of Virginia. I sighed, making myself forget where she _should_ be, and made myself remember why she was here.

"Like it or not, Lizzy, I'm going to help you," I took a step back from the door, "That's a promise."

As I was walking back across the drive I smiled and waved at the large truck that was heading up the drive. Ben Stillman had been working for us for nearly six months under the request of his well-known aunt, Lisa Stillman. At first he had been a challenge, only wanting to work with his own horse that was stabled at Heartland instead of learning our ways as Lisa had intended. However, after a while he had come to be quite interested in our use of natural remedies and we had become good friends.

"Morning," Ben grinned, stepping down from the cab of his truck. He was dressed in worn jeans and a dark blue hooded sweatshirt. His wheat colored hair was tousled as the wind picked up and blew it across his face, leaving it falling across his brow as it settled. His grin was infectious and I smiled back at him, elbowing him lightly in the side as he fell into step with me.

"How was last night?" I asked, wiggling my eyebrows. He didn't look at me, but I saw the color rise in his cheeks and the smile he tried to hold back.

"It was good," he said, "Real good." I looked up at him as we entered the house together, slipping our shoes off next to the door and sitting down at the table in the center of the kitchen.

"Oh yeah, what happened?" I asked, rising again to start the coffee for Grandpa and Ben, and getting a glass down for my own drink of choice.

"Nothing, really. It was just fun," He smiled at the memory. "We went to an early movie, the one at 4:30, and then we got coffee and hung out for a while. It was an early night, though. I got her home around 8."

I looked over at him and studied his face. He was looking right back into my eyes, and I felt a blush creep up my cheeks. Ben was only two years older than me. Nineteen to my seventeen. When he had started at Heartland he was only a month away from graduating. He had commuted, from where he lived with his aunt and went to school, to Heartland every week day for that whole month. An hour and a half each day. A week after he'd graduated he commuted for the last time, packing up his belongings and moving into an apartment only ten minutes from the farm. He was not attending college, instead, he focused on learning the ways of Heartland and moving forward with his jumping career.

Only two months after beginning work at Heartland, in early July, we had a thing. Out on a trail ride one day, after stopping quickly to give the horses a rest, Ben had kissed me. And kissed me. And kissed me. And I'd let him, my heart soaring with the sensation. I had been kissed before, but never the way that Ben kissed me that day. However, it didn't work out. After a month of stolen kisses on trail rides or in the tack room, I realized that we were hiding our relationship and didn't even know why. I merely brushed it off as a summer romance and did my best to continue our friendship in a normal fashion. The way we had before that fated trail ride. Honestly, it was easy. We fell right back into friendship like it was nothing, but we still had our moments. Where our eyes met and we knew, at the moment, that we were both thinking the same thing. Both remembering the same thing.

Like now.

I turned quickly away, my heart pounding. I was happy for him, I really was. He hadn't been this excited over the prospect of a date in a really long time. And the fact that he was holding back details, such as kisses or the holding of hands, showed how serious he was about this one. In the three months since we'd ended our non-relationship, he had dated four other girls and never failed to give me the details of each. I had welcomed them like a friend should, and it had never bothered me. Yet, here he was, serious about one of them, and I felt like a jealous school girl. It was pathetic.

I finished my glass of milk with a flourish and grabbed a muffin from the covered plate placed there the day before by Lou. She had been baking non-stop since the birth of her first child, Jadyn Lynn Trewin, eight months previous. Muffins, it seemed, were her choice of the week.

"Thank God for Lou," I smiled at Ben, trying to restore our sense of ease. In moments like these, that was vital. Ben merely smiled at me, getting up and grabbing a muffin for himself.

"Amen," he finally smirked, swallowing his first bite. I laughed lightly, waving at him as I climbed the winding stairs to the second floor, passing by the bathroom door and hearing the shower running. I smiled, knowing that it had taken Grandpa a while to wake up. Without an alarm, he tended to fall back into sleep.

I skipped into my room, finishing off my muffin, and stripping from the clothes that I wore. I then bounded over to the dresser on the western wall and sifted through the full drawers. I pulled out a pair of jeans that were old, but not as worn as most of my others. I pulled them on before searching again for a top. I finally decided on a tank-top with a dark gray hooded sweatshirt over it. I didn't care about how I looked that day. I walked over to my closed door where a full length mirror hung. I frowned at my loose hair. It was nearly dry from being outdoors, but it was still slightly damp. The dull chestnut color framed my face in long sheets, ending slightly below my breasts. I sighed before gathering up the folds of my hair and throwing them back into a ponytail.

_There_, I smiled, _all ready._

I grabbed my bookbag off of my desk chair and slung it over my shoulder. I then ran down the stairs, looking at the clock on the stove.

"Do I have the truck today or do I have to take the bus?" I asked Grandpa, who stood making his coffee.

"Bus. I need the truck most of the week." I nodded in understanding.

"Then I have to get going," I leaned up and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before slipping on my sneakers and running out the door. As I walked briskly down the long driveway I faintly heard the sound of the bus and hurried my feet forward, just making it to the end of the driveway as the bus pulled up. I smiled at the old man driving the bus before heading towards the back, seeing my friend Matt sitting there with headphones in his ears. I sat next to him and he looked over at me, smiling.

Pausing his music, he greeted me. "Hey, Ames."

"Hey. Why are you riding the bus?" I asked. While I didn't have my own car and only got to drive to school when Grandpa didn't need the truck, which was at the most, three times a week, Matt has his own car and usually drove himself to school. On occasion, he would go out of his way and pick me up for school also.

"My cars in the shop," he answered simply, looking pained at the prospect of having to ride the bus.

"Oh, well, I'm glad. I haven't talked to you in a while." I grimaced, knowing I shouldn't of said that. In truth, I hadn't talked to him in a while because ever since him and Soraya had broken up, a month before, we hadn't seen much of each other. Usually when we hung out it was all three of us, and I barely had time for that. Splitting my time between them was a huge task.

I saw the pained look in his eyes before he covered it up and smiled at me, really trying. "Yeah. It's good to talk to you. What's been going on?" I felt relieved that he hadn't brought up the break-up and I fell into an easy conversation with him.

* * *

_Same Day_

_Lunch_

"I don't know how you eat that stuff," Soraya grimaced as she saw me sit down with the school taco's before me.

"Easy, really. I just ingest it." She glared at me from across the table.

"I don't know how I'm friends with you," She said, her face totally serious.

"Me either. What with my being a social _exile_, and all." She nodded serenely, picking at the homemade egg salad sandwich in front of her.

"I think I take after my mom. She tends to fall in love with charity cases, wanting to take care of them." I thought of all Soraya's mom's friends and realized this was slightly true.

"You know what _I_ love?" She raised her eyebrows in question. "Casually blunt put-downs._ Love_ them."

She laughed and then smiled at me. "Speaking of your exile status, you haven't heard the new scoop on Ty yet, have you?" I shook my head, placating her.

"He was sighted again." Once again, I couldn't help but feel sorry for this poor kid. Soraya, and I'm sure the rest of the student population, was making this whole deal seem like a bad episode of Steve Irwin. The word 'sighted' just made me cringe.

However, I still didn't care.

"I don't care."

"Kailey saw him in the office this morning, just sitting there," Kailey Chase was Marlin Chase's twin sister. She usually sat in the seat next to Soraya during lunch, but she was absent from the table today. She was probably sucking up to Ashley Grant at her table, reveling in her fifteen minutes of fame, knowing she was the one with the rumor. The one feeding the gossip to the mongers. On cue, I heard Kailey's shrill voice and looked over to see her practically sitting on Ashley's lap, telling her story in full to the waiting ears around her. Poor girl. Didn't she know that Ashley was just using her, just like she used everyone? Once she got the story she wanted she would just push Kailey away, not caring if she hurt her feelings.

"I don't care," I stated again, beginning to eat my lunch.

"I guess someone saw him pull up on a motorcycle," Soraya's voice was intense, "I wonder if that's true."

"Doubtful," I added to her thoughts.

"You're probably right," She looked over towards Kailey, "She said she couldn't get a real good look at his face, since she didn't notice him until she was almost out of the door, but she knew it was him. She can't confirm the major changes though."

"I. Don't. Care." I punctuated my words, making each one a sentence in itself.

"Whatever, Amy. I'm just telling you that he's back in school." She paused. "Or he will be, anyway."

Lily Braden, the girl sitting beside me, had cued in on our conversation and broken away from her boyfriend, who sat next to her, to look at Soraya.

"So it's true? He's actually back?" Soraya nodded enthusiastically. "You know, I remember him from middle school. He used to always be put in front of me, since our names both start with a B." She looked thoughtful. "I remember feeling bad for him because he had no friends."

From beside her, Lily's boyfriend, Mark, spoke. "The kid was a total nerd. He brought it on himself."

"Markus! He probably couldn't help it. I mean, if I remember correctly, he wasn't very _appealing_. He was self-conscious, most likely." Lily had ripped her hand from Mark's, angered at his words. However, he merely followed her hand with his and linked them again. Lily didn't protest.

"All I'm saying is you make your own choices. He could of made friends if he wanted to, bad looking, or not." Lily scoffed at his words, but I noticed Mark squeeze her hand and she squeezed back. Their love was slightly sickening.

"Do you think he'll make friends now?" Bobbi Mason asked, her voice coming from my other side.

"I'd think so. I mean, you can't be talked about for over a week and not have someone have the guts to go up and talk to you." Soraya crumpled her lunch bag into a ball. "Plus, I heard he's changed a lot. Bad looks, supposedly, won't be getting in the way of making friends this time around."

I rolled my eyes at the whole conversation before finishing my milk and placing it on my tray. "Has anyone thought to consider how _Ty_ is feeling in this whole situation? Maybe he doesn't want to make friends now. Maybe he's still bitter over having been rejected his whole life until he finally packed up and moved across the country."

"Don't act all self-righteous, Amy. You weren't exactly befriending him back in middle school, either." Mark stated flatly, turning to look at her.

"No, Mark, you're absolutely right. But I'm also not sitting here talking about him like he's something to be ogled." I stood up, tray in hand. "I find it really pathetic that this guy had to totally change to even be considered as a friend to any of you. I, for one, do not plan on being his friend merely because he's changed. Add in the fact that none of us even know him, or know what he wants, makes it worse." I turned my back on my table, dumped my tray, and walked out of the café.

* * *

**Author Note:** Okay, so this wasn't the longest chapter, but I wanted to just get this story started and introduce the characters and their backgrounds. I think I got most of the important people into this chapter. If not, I've got the whole story ahead of me to introduce some more people. I hope you enjoyed it. And if you read it, please review. They'll definitely keep the story going.

-Shawna


	2. Chapter Two

**Author Note: **I don't really have one. Happy reading :

**Disclaimer: **Everything that was in the Heartland books is not mine. However, everything that is unique, is. Please do not steal.

* * *

**You're Gonna Need Someone on Your Side**

**Chapter Two**

_November 10__th__, 2008_

_-Tuesday_

The pain behind my eyes was not enough to sway my determination. Headache to rival all headaches or not, work had to be done. I tried my best to block out the pain as I attempted to drive Lizzy around the ring. However, she stubbornly stood as far away from me as possible, her look lethal and bored. After a few more minutes of trying to get her to move, even a foot, I let my arms fall and my head loll. The pain pounding throughout my head was steadily getting worse, and I didn't know if I could continue working. After a silent second of letting myself breathe slowly, I lifted my head and looked at Lizzy. Her stance was casual, unafraid. She looked as though she were waiting for me to do something, like I hadn't been trying for the past hour. Her eyes were dangerously calm, but I knew anger and fear lurked behind that calm somewhere. So I stared her down. After ten minutes of merely staring at her, I sighed and gave up. Climbing over the fence, I walked briskly towards my mothers office, determined on finding something to help with Lizzy, when an old pickup truck came to a stop not five feet from me. I tried to peer through the glass, but the sun was shining directly on it and made it impossible. So I stood there, head pounding, waiting for the figure to emerge from the trucks cab, slightly impatient.

Finally, I stalked around the front of the truck only to see the owner leaning against his door. He looked to be around twenty, and his dark hair fell over his brow, nearly hiding his eyes. However, the way he was leaning against his truck, his arms crossed and his eyes looking at me from underneath his hair, made it seem as though he were amused at my impatience. Like I didn't have a right to be slightly irritated that I was the one who had to cross over into his territory, rather than he into mine. He was the one who came here, was he not?

"Can I help you?" I snapped, my headache getting the best of me.

"I wouldn't know. Can you?" His voice was low, husky. I could tell, though, that this was normal. This man wasn't lowering his voice to bring me to my knees. His voice was naturally seductive in the fact that it was low. Smooth. I glowered.

"If you would tell me why you're here, maybe we could both figure out if I can," His eyebrow lifted beneath a tuft of hair, his expression turning from amused to something bordering respect. Or annoyance. I couldn't quite tell.

"Are you Amy Fleming?" This didn't effect me in the least. Ever since my mothers death two years previous, Heartland was often coupled with my name. Those who came, seeking out help for their horses, usually asked for me by it.

"Unless you came here to specifically see me, I don't see the relevance in that question," I really just wanted an aspirin. Maybe two. Maybe even three. And a bed. My bed. A pillow. Oh, I could use a pillow.

"You're right," I waited, expecting more. He just smiled.

"So, can I help you?" He moved his body slightly so that he was no longer leaning against the truck door, but standing tall in front of me. At least four inches taller than me, to be exact. Was he trying to intimidate me?

"I need a job," Internally, I jumped with joy. This wasn't a customer, wanting a tour of Heartland to see if it fit with the standards set for his horse. This wasn't a customer wanting to hear the story of my mothers death and how I took over her business. I could easily tell this man that we didn't have any openings and send him on his way. No hour long conversation. No tour needing to be given.

"Sorry, but we're not hiring right now," Once again, an eyebrow lifted beneath his dark brown hair. He took a small step back and sighed in a way that I thought was meant to sound dramatic in it's 'oh, darn' way, but it merely sounded as though he were amused and found the situation...expected.

"You're sure?" He asked.

"Positive. If you want, though, I can take your number and give you a call if we ever need some extra help," We did this with everyone who asked for a job. It made them feel as though we weren't brushing them off. Like we really might call them.

"Sure," he turned, before I could say anything, and opened the door to his truck. He rummaged around for a minute before coming out with a ripped off corner of a paper bag and a pen in hand. He leaned the paper against the now closed door and wrote, before turning and handing it to me.

"Thanks," I glanced at the paper. Todd Bradley. The name didn't sound familiar, and I figured it didn't matter. We weren't going to call him. "We'll call you."

"Sure," he said again, flashing me a smile. He climbed into the cab of his truck and didn't wave or look at me again. He backed down the long driveway and out of sight.

* * *

_November 13__th__, 2008_

_-Friday_

"Ms. Fleming, I'd like to see you after the bell," I looked up from packing my books into my bag to see Mr. Denice looking at me from his spot in front of the blackboard. His ice blue eyes stared me down, not cruelly, but enough to scare me about the reason behind my having to stay behind. I actually heard a few sighs behind me, girls, no doubt, at the prospect of staying behind for Mr. Denice. He was a new teacher this year for physics, and ever since his first day he had been dubbed one of the hot teachers of Jefferson high. Girls used their airy flirtatious voices with him, and guys scoffed behind his back. I, for one, didn't feel the effect. Good looking or not, the guys freezing cold personality was enough to turn me off from some hot teacher on student action in my dreams.

"Yes, Mr. Denice." I answered, letting myself fall back into my seat, half-heartedly zippering my bookbag the rest of the way. I watched everyone else file towards the door, waiting for the bell, while I pondered my situation. The only thing I could think of that would warrant a one-on-one conversation with me would be my grades. For the past two weeks or so I had been so caught up in Heartland, and Lizzy, that I hadn't put as much effort forward as I should have been. My last test grade, from three days ago, proved this. And, if this little meeting meant anything, the quiz I took today didn't help my case either.

The bell rung, signally the end of sixth period, and all my classmates filed out the door. Most were heading where I would be going also, to the café. I actually felt a shock of resentment towards Mr. Denice for holding me back. Lunch was my favorite period of the day, for obvious reasons. And now the forty-two minutes allotted for my time in the café were dwindling. And if he sat there, idly writing, for one more minute as my free time slowly drained to nothing, so help me God I didn't know what I'd do.

"Excuse me, Mr Denice? I don't mean to be rude, but this is my lunch time," He looked up, those glittering blue eyes staring through me like nothing. He had stalled his pencil along the paper he was scribbling across, and held it there. After a moment of looking at me he gently laid the pencil down. He stood, lightly stepping from behind his desk, and walked towards the front of it, leaning his body into it to support himself.

"I know this is probably an inconvenience to you, Amy, but it's actually quite important," I nodded, not letting myself speak. I could tell he just wanted me to listen. So I did. "As of lately, your grades in this class have been steadily getting worse. Seeing as you've been a model student up until this point, it worried me. I even took the liberty of looking at your grades in all your other classes, and noticing that it was not just in my class that you were slacking."

Is it odd that I felt a small flash of anger at this piece of information? I mean, everyone knew that all teachers had the power to look through all of your grades. It was common knowledge. It was all in the database of the computers stationed in each and every room. However, I'd never had a teacher tell me straight out that they'd looked at my grades in other classes. I felt stripped, like Mr. Denice had seen all of me, intellectually speaking. Knowing that he had figured out that I was slipping in school, in general and not just in his class, made me feel horrible. Like I'd failed. But I hadn't. I was a good student and was merely going through a rough patch. Hadn't my guidance counselor even told me that Junior year was a hard time for many students. That our grades may start to slip, due to pressure, and that extra work was needed? Well, that was what was happening, right?

"I know, Mr. Denice, and I've also noticed the same thing. I'm sorry, I don't know what's happened. I'll do better, I promise." He nodded, accepting my apology and explanation. He didn't dismiss me, though. I quickly snuck a glance at the time and realized ten minutes of my lunch were gone.

"You're a good student, Amy, and I have no doubt in your ability to bounce back. However, this school does have rules, and policies," My back straightened at this turn in events. Rules? Policies? Where was this going?

"Amy, I'm sorry, but you've failed your last two tests, and you even failed that small quiz today," He looked sad all of the sudden, like he regretted what he had to do. This was new. Ice man thawing? What was going on?

"I know," I murmured, wanting him to get to the point. Not wanting to be reminded that I'd never failed anything in my life before two weeks ago.

"Like I said, this school has rules and policies. You've, I'm sure, never encountered this one, but I have to enforce it." I swallowed, looking up at him. "Amy, failing two tests warrants you a detention. A 5:20."

A detention? Was he serious? I'd never had a detention in my life. I'd never even seen the inside of the Principal's office. And that room, the detention room, forget it. I'd never even seen the _door_. It was merely a myth to me. Was there really a detention room, or was it held in the café? Did I just sit there and stare, or was I allowed to do homework? I'd heard you couldn't sleep, or even rest your head on your arms. Was this true? Well, could I rest my head on my bookbag?

And a 5:20...wasn't that extreme? That's three hours of detention. If failing two tests got me a 5:20, what the hell did a fight get me?

"A...detention?" I gasped, almost instantly after he'd said the words. Funny how much can run through your mind in one second.

"I'm sorry, Amy. I didn't want it to come to this," He leaned forward. "Just between you and me, I think it's slightly bogus," Had I not been in shock, a teacher using the word 'bogus' would of caused me to laugh. "A 5:20, to me, is overdoing it. Maybe a 3:20. However, I have no say. This school really wants you to get good grades, huh?" I nodded.

"When?" I blurted out. I could barely think. I knew, in the back of my head, that I was being a sissy. Many people had had detentions before, and I was balking at my first one? Being a good girl all these years had really hardened me. Psh. Yeah right.

"Anytime in the next week that suits you. However, I thought getting it over today might be more convenient." I nodded, not really caring about the day. I just needed to know when to report.

"That's fine," Mr. Denice nodded and stood, obviously getting ready to dismiss me. "Oh, wait." He paused in his way back to behind his desk. "Where do I go?"

He smiled, knowing why I had to ask. I didn't know if he was enjoying this or not, but he was cooperating. That was all I could ask for. He explained where I had to go and then dismissed me by scribbling on his paper again. On the way out I glanced at the clock again and realized half of my lunch had been taken away.

I stopped at my locker like usual, depositing books I no longer needed, and acquiring ones I did. I walked slowly down the hall, thinking not about my detention, but about my whole day in general. And how it was Friday the 13th. Not one for superstitions, I hadn't given it a second thought, but today was really turning out to be the dreaded Friday everyone feared. I was the model Friday the 13th bad day scenario.

At first, I thought it was going to be a good day. Grandpa didn't need the truck, so I drove to school. But getting out, I'd dropped my coat into a puddle, the pounding rain that had started the night before, soaking it before I could save it. But whatever. Bad things happen, right? Well, no. No, they don't. I'd then, during 2nd period, tripped over the wire for the t.v, nearly falling flat on my face in front of my whole english class. Great. And now I'd gotten a detention? I really needed a break. Really, really.

* * *

_Same Day_

_-2:17 p.m._

I sat on the bleachers in gym, along with all the other girls in my class, and waited for the final bell to ring. Everyone was chatting around me, excited for the weekend. I, though, sat there dreading the final bell. I would walk to my locker like usual, get the books I needed...but I wouldn't then walk towards the parking lot. I would walk towards detention.

The bell rang and everyone around me jumped up, laughing with friends, as they headed towards the door. I sighed, heaving myself up and made myself walk out of the gym doors. About half-way towards my locker, Soraya found me.

"Hey, Rebel," She smiled, laughing at my sour face. She knew about the detention and didn't hold back in making fun of me. She, herself, having several detention under her belt for lack of enthusiasm for homework.

"Shut up, Raya. It's not funny, I have work to do," She rolled her eyes, knowing I was more freaked out about the prospect of a detention rather than work. I knew Ben would cover for me, I'd already called him.

"Sure, sure," She laughed, obviously giddy for some reason. "Why so serious?" She asked in a Joker-like way.

"Why so happy?" I threw back, and she laughed.

"Actually," she smiled at me, "I talked to Matt today. We're going to hang out tonight." I sighed, not liking that idea. Ever since they'd broken up Matt had been a wreck while Soraya had gone on with her life, barely stumbling. For once, I'd taken their break-up seriously. Usually they lasted, at most, a day. This time, it'd lasted a month. I'd lie if I said I weren't relieved. When together, they were perfect. But God forbid they got in a fight. Their relationship was exhausting, and I'd actually been relaxed when they'd been apart. Although, everyone knew how perfect they were for each other. I suppose I should be happy.

"That's good, Raya. Call me later and tell me the details," I laughed as she nodded her head enthusiastically. Her eyes then got huge and she smiled bigger than I'd seen her smile in a while.

"Look, I see him. I'll see you later, 'kay, Ames?" I nodded, watching as she ran forward through the throng of people and linked her arm through Matt's. I watched as Matt looked down at her, smiling as though the sun rose and set for her. I only hoped that Soraya wouldn't mess it up again.

I made my way to my locker and let most of my books fall into it, only rummaging through the mess for my english notebook. When I was done I pulled out my cell phone and looked at the time. It was only 2:34. I didn't have to report for detention until 2:45.

So I wandered, mingling with a few groups of friends, casually glancing at my phone every few minutes. Finally, it was 2:43 and I decided I better head for the room Mr. Denice had told me about. The room was in the main hallway, and I passed it every day several times. It was one of those doors you don't notice because you've never had to. Like the Conference room, or the Janitors closet you've never noticed until you see one of the Janitors exiting it.

It was next to the Dean's office, strategically placed, no doubt, and it was like any other door. The small window in it was covered with construction paper so that, apparently, the trouble-makers within could not be distracted. I gently twisted the door handle down and pushed through. Inside I saw a teacher that I'd never had before, but recognized. He was, most likely, in his late 50's and his receding hairline was fairly evident. Gray hair had not overtaken black, yet, but it was visible. His pot belly spilled over his lap as he sat, leaning back, in a chair behind a desk which was immediately to the left of the door.

There were about ten desks in the very small room. They were all facing away from the door, and the teacher. This confused me, but I decided not to question it. The shades on the windows, of which the desks were facing, were pulled and no light spilled around the cracks. Rain was heard through them, though, and helped to make the room even more dreary. A quick survey of the room put the teacher to student ratio at one to three. The prospect of a fourth, apparently, was not pleasing to the teacher. He looked down at a sheet in front of him and spoke in a raspy, yet strong, voice.

"Amy or Sasha?" He asked, straight to the point. I answered him and he vaguely pointed towards the left side of the room, and so I picked the desk in the very back, or front, had the seats been facing the right way, and sat quietly. There was a chalkboard on the right wall and I let my eyes wander over it, noticing it was the rules for this room.

**_1. No Cell Phones_**

**_2. No Music Devices (MP3, iPod, etc.)_**

**_3. No Sleeping_**

**_4. No Talking_**

**_5. No Getting Up, Unless To Ask A Question_**

**_-You May Do Homework_**

I sighed, readying myself for a long day. The only solace being that there was a clock above the chalkboard, easily seen.

For the first hour I let myself start, procrastinate, then actually finish my homework. The only thing left was an essay, but I didn't really feel like doing it. However, after ten minutes of idly twiddling my thumbs, I pulled out a sheet of paper and the essay question, and began to write. At 4:50 I finished the final draft of the essay and slipped it into my bag. I had half an hour left and I'd already finished my weekend homework.

So I sat. And sat. And sat. And, at 5:10, know what I did? I sat some more.

At 5:15 I was beginning to stir, seeing that freedom was only five minutes away. I noticed the five other students in the room doing the same. The two that had come late were seated right in front of the teachers desk, having made him mad with tardiness.

At 5:19 the teacher spoke.

"You may go," he said, simply. Everyone in the room, not including the teacher, rose and scrambled for the door. I let myself fall to the back of the small crowd rather than let myself be flung through the door. When I was free of the room I smiled in relief, having gotten through my first detention, and began to walk across the school to get to the student parking lot. When I made it to the door I noticed that the rain had stopped. The day was still gloomy, not a ray of sunshine got through the clouds, but I had a free run to the truck without getting wet.

I pushed through the door and walked towards the back of the parking lot where I had left the truck, having gotten to school just on time and been given a bad parking spot. As I neared the truck I heard thunder above me and startled. The large boom, I reasoned, could only be accompanied by rain. So I hurried my feet forward and made it to the truck before I felt a slight drizzle. I let myself into the truck as quickly as possible. Almost as soon as the door was closed, rain began pounding down in thick sheets on the windshield. I watched it for a second and after a minute the rain gave up a little. It was still raining steadily, but it was no longer a torrential downpour.

I placed the key in the ignition, turned, and instinctively put my foot on the break and my hand on the stick, ready to put the truck in drive. That is, before I realized that the truck hadn't started. I furrowed my brow in confusion before turning the key again. The truck didn't start.

"You have got to be kidding me," I cursed, letting my hand fall away from the key. I sat there for a second, really hating Friday the 13th, before I remembered my phone. I quickly pulled it from my jeans pocket and flipped it open. I saw right away that I had no service, which was odd. Instinctively I glanced towards the right, knowing that the cell phone tower was situated in that general direction. The storm must have knocked something out.

In vain, I tried to start the truck twice more. On my last try I got a sputtering response out of it, and let myself hope. I tried once more, and it only stuttered, again. I didn't want to flood it, so I finally turned the key back to normal position and dropped my hand, realizing I was screwed.

Someone knocked on the passenger window, and I screamed. Putting a hand to my heart in fright, I looked at the window and saw a shadow of someone standing there. I leaned across the seat to manually open the window, curious as to who it was. When the window was about halfway down an arm snaked through, pulling up the lock. Next thing I knew, someone was sliding into the seat next to me, shutting the door, and winding the window back up. Finally, he turned to me. I knew it was a he by his build.

When he turned, my eyebrows shot up in confusion, and my eyes crinkled in curiosity.

"Where did_ you_ come from?" I blurted, totally surprised. He was raking his hand through his hair, scattering rain drops all over the cab of the truck. He used his free hand to point to the right.

"The school," he stated, as though it were obvious. I couldn't help but stare at him. My heart had yet to settle from the surprise, and my mind yet to stop racing with questions.

"Aren't you too old for school?" I asked. He finally looked straight at me and smiled a crooked smile. He was laughing at me.

"If I'm not mistaken, we're the same age," He stopped releasing rain from his hair and shifted slightly so he was facing me more directly.

"You look older," I stated. I honestly didn't even know what I was saying as I said it. Shock was still coursing through my body. And confusion. I was so confused it wasn't funny.

He shrugged, obviously not bothered by this statement. "Genetics," he said as an answer to my question that really wasn't a question.

"So you're new here? What are you doing here so late?" His smile got larger, obviously enjoying my confusion.

"You could say I'm new here," His eyes twinkled. "And as to why I'm here so late...that's my business."

"Okay," I said, finally getting over the shock. "Your name is Todd, right?"

He looked at me in confusion before amusement lit a fire in his eyes. "No, that's not my name."

"That's what you told me your name was," I accused, positive that's what he'd written.

"I never told you my name," he shook his head slightly. I glared at him. What game was this guy playing?

"That's what you wrote when you gave me your number," I stated, starting to really not care for this guy. If he'd give me straight answers this would be easier. If he didn't, well, I wasn't exactly enjoying his company in my truck. I was only letting him stay to get some answers.

"Telling and writing are two totally different things."

"What does that matter? You wrote Todd Bradley on the paper next to your number. It's only right to assume that was your name," I was really not in the mood for this.

"No, it's not right to assume. You never asked my name, therefore I never told you. Had you asked, I would of told. Since you didn't, I was at liberty to put any name I pleased next to that number. The number that you _did _ask for, so it was correct." I just stared at him. Really, what else could I do?

"What's your name?" I finally asked.

"Ty Baldwin," he smiled, his eyes alight with some emotion I couldn't place. Happiness? Amusement? Clarity? "Nice to see you again, Amy Fleming."

I stared some more. This guy in front of me, this guy who looked, for all aspects, a man, was Ty Baldwin? He looked totally different from the Ty Baldwin that had left nearly three years before.

Where that Ty had donned light brown hair, this Ty sported dark hair that fell lazily across his brown. Where the old Ty was short and chubby, this Ty towered over me and was slim in a way that you knew he was well built beneath his t-shirt. Where the old Ty had always been shy and hated confrontation, this Ty seemed mysterious and looked as though he thrived on the contact he made with those he sought out.

_This_ was Ty Baldwin?

"I can see you're shocked," he chuckled lightly, still amused. "I guess that was to be expected. It's happened quite a bit since I've been back."

"Did you really need a job?" I asked, wishing I could take back the words as I let them slip. Really, of all the things I could say, and I said that?

It didn't seem to bother him. "I could use one, yes, but that's not why I came to your house." He saw the question in my eyes, and for once, didn't make me voice it. "I went to school on Monday for half the day and a senior showed me around, so I'd know where my classes were when I came back. After that he offered me a seat at lunch, if I wanted. It didn't really matter to me, so I went."

"Okay," I said, not knowing if he was done.

"His table just so happened to be right next to yours. And the seat I was in happened to be nearly back to back with your seat. I heard you stick up for me and then saw you storm out." He smiled at me. "I was curious as to who this girl was. I didn't recognize you. Believe it or not, you've also changed a lot, Amy." He let his eyes wonder up and down my body and I crossed my arms over my wet t-shirt, even though it wasn't see through, and glared at him.

He smirked, knowing I'd noticed his intake of me. "I found out it was you, and decided I ought to meet you face to face." He caught my gaze and held it. "I'm still curious, I guess you could say."

"Curious about what?" I snapped.

"About why you stuck up for me," He shrugged. "Your friend was right, you weren't exactly befriending me back then either."

"I...I didn't," I stuttered, not knowing how to explain our lack of friendship as kids. Then, I shut my mouth. I didn't owe him an explanation. Whether or not I felt bad, it was like he'd been playing a game with me for the past week, and I barely knew this kid. It was ridiculous.

"No worries, that's not why I'm here." He smiled for the thousandth time that minute then turned to face me more. "What's the problem?"

I sat, confused once again, just staring at him. "Problem?"

"With the truck," he said, as though it were obvious.

"It won't start. It sputters, then stops." I said, welcoming the change of subject. Maybe telling him would get him to leave me alone.

"Hm," he flung up the hood on the black zip-up he wore and threw himself out into the rain that was still falling steadily. I watched as he popped the hood of the truck and waiting silently for him to emerge.

After about five minutes he tapped on my window and I rolled it down.

"Try it now," he said, simply. I rolled my eyes, doubting he'd fixed it, and turned the key. Almost instantly the truck roared to life and my eyes grew wide in disbelief.

"Problem solved," he didn't smile, like I would of expected from him, but just stared at me from the depths of the hood that surrounded his face. Deep green eyes caught mine in a gaze that I couldn't break.

"Thanks," I was finally able to say, eyes still locked. He let a smile fall across his lips for the smallest amount of time before just turning and walking away into the rain. I couldn't see his destination, the rain was so hard, but I figured he knew where he was going.

I pushed down the brake, put the car in drive, and pressed the gas.

This day just needed to end.

* * *

**Author Note:** So, Ty's been introduced. Hope you liked it. If you read it, please review.


	3. Chapter Three

**Author Note: **I have about two more weeks of summer left. And Monday-Wednesday I have to babysit from 2:30 to 7. Which means I'm stuck at home not able to do anything on those days until I have to babysit. So, that's why I'm writing so much. So, in the next couple of a weeks, expect a chapter or two between those days. Just so you know.

**Fact:** I'm not sure if the reason for Ty being at the school so late will ever really surface in the story. Amy wonders about it, as you'll see, but I don't think the answer ever really comes up. See, half of Amy and Ty's relationship in this story is by chance. While half of it is made to be that way. You'll know what I mean soon enough. However, I know a few people were wondering about why he was there so late. Basically, Monday he got his tour of the school, assuming he'd start on Tuesday, but the transcripts from his previous school didn't come through, so he had to wait. Friday he was asked to come in and go over a few things about his transcripts. They asked him to come after hours anytime before 6 in the evening. He went around 4:30 and was not far behind Amy when she was going to her truck. He saw her get in her truck and sit there for a while. Being as intuitive as he is, he figured she had car trouble.

There. Just wanted that cleared up.

**Fact #2:** This chapter tends to skip around a lot, so please pay attention to the dates. I'm basically just trying to show the passage of time. That one part is a few weeks later than the previous part, rather than just a day. Time is important. Please keep track.

**Fact #3: **I can't for the life of me remember how much older Lou is than Amy. Amy is 17 in this story, and Lou has a child, so I'm saying she is six years older and 23. I'm wrong, but oh well.

**Disclaimer: **Everything that was in the Heartland books is not mine. However, everything that is unique, is. Please do not steal.

* * *

**You're Gonna Need Someone on Your Side**

**Chapter Three**

_November 16__th__, 2008_

_-Monday_

"Do I have the truck today?" I asked Grandpa as I hopped into the kitchen off the winding stairs, having just changed for school. He was standing by the counter filling his coffee cup and he turned to look at me as I threw on a light coat over the t-shirt I wore.

"No. I need it today, sweetie." I walked over to him, quickly kissing his cheek before running towards the door, picking up my awaiting bookbag, and running out the door yelling a quick goodbye over my shoulder.

Ben was just getting out of his truck when I exited the house. He smiled at me and I ran up and stopped in front of him.

"I need you to work with Ray today. Oh, and don't forget to give Glory her remedies around noon. I've got them on a schedule for her. Just put it in her water." I racked my brain quickly for anything special I needed him to do. "Oh, and if you have a chance, call Lou and tell her we're going to need to order bedding soon."

"Woah, Amy, calm down." He took my shoulders in his hands and shook me lightly. "You told me all of that last night."

"I know," I stepped from under his hands, quickly walking away from him and down the drive. "But I also know how irresponsible you are." I heard his scoff. "Don't forget!" I ordered, practically jogging down the drive now, worried about missing the bus.

As I took the final turn towards the end of the driveway, having finally slowed to a fast walk, I nearly stopped in shock. There, waiting at the very end of the drive, was an idling motorcycle. It's sleek black and chrome exterior gave the motorcycle the look of danger before ever even riding it. I could practically feel the power that this machine had. After a second of staring, nearly open mouthed, at the motorcycle, I finally noticed the rider. He sat astride the bike, his helmet dangling from the handle bar. His hair was mussed from the pressure of the helmet from, as it seemed, only moments before.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I growled, really quite frustrated when I got over my shock. What right did he think he had to be sitting there, looking all dangerous is his leather riding coat and jeans, like he owned the place?

"Thought you might like a ride," he said, reaching behind his back without looking and un-attaching a second helmet.

"You thought wrong," I made sure to lace my words with venom as I walked towards him until I was only a few feet from where his foot rested on the ground.

I saw him look at me and then around me and down the deserted street. "Well, seeing as you're not in a truck right now, and the bus is nowhere in sight...I'd say you need a ride." His words caught fire in my brain, flaming questions ready to get out.

"How'd you know I wouldn't be in my truck?" I asked, suspicious. _On that note_, I thought to myself, _how the hell did you know I would be at the school so late on Friday?_

"I didn't," he said simply. His casual tone made it seem as though, even though he hadn't known whether I'd be in my truck or not, he knew there was a large chance I wouldn't be.

"How'd you know that I don't drive it every day?" I wanted answers. This new Ty Baldwin, the one who acted as though he ran the world, and in his own good time, was starting to really bother me. Even though I'd never befriended the old Ty, I kind of wished he'd stayed the same. Cockiness was not the most attractive thing.

"I have my ways," He said flatly, frustrated. Huh, frustrated. Like he had a right, over me, to be the one getting frustrated.

"Which are?" I demanded.

"_My_ ways," he said again. "Now, if you're done with the third degree, can we get going?" Right as he finished this statement I heard the rumble of the bus. I looked to the right and saw the yellow of the large vehicle turning the bend towards my house. I followed it with my eyes until it brought Ty into my vision. I smiled, holding his eyes with mine, as I walked past him, around the front of his bike, and towards the bus.

"Sorry," I said as I was in front of his motorcycle. I then lowered my voice to a dramatic whisper, "_Previous engagements_." I snatched my eyes away from his and climbed up the stairs onto the bus, feeling his eyes following me. I found a seat in the back, Matt no longer there. I kept my eyes forward as the bus drove away, determined not to give him the pleasure of thinking he was still on my mind. Except, he had to know that he was, when, not a minute later, he flew by the bus on his motorcycle, just a streak of black.

* * *

_Same Day_

_-Lunch_

He was everywhere. He was like my shadow, following me to nearly each and every class. Economics? Three seats ahead and two rows over. Calculus? Two seats behind and four rows over. English? One seat ahead and two rows over. Study hall? Nowhere, thank God. But, there he was. Sitting at the table he'd warned me he'd already frequented. His chair nearly back to back with mine. My heart stopped when I saw the situation, and then my eyes narrowed. Was this guy that set out to piss me off? I wouldn't give him, or anyone, that pleasure.

I walked my normal route to my lunch table, Soraya next to me chatting away. As we neared the table that he was sitting at, I saw him notice me but quickly look away. I let him think I hadn't noticed him or where he was. I simply walked in-between our tables, pulled out my chair, and sat. I couldn't help but think of the fact that our chairs, when both being sat in, were merely inches apart. This guy, this infuriating guy, who for some reason took it on as a personal vendetta to bug the hell out of me, was sitting with his back to me, nearly touching. It was ridiculous.

After a few minutes our table was filled to capacity and five different conversations were being held. I was involved in one about whether or not the school food should be petitioned against. I was the only one siding with the school, standing up to enter the line to buy the food in question. When I got back, the conversation had taken a full 360.

As I sat, Soraya instantly leaned to the right to look over my shoulder, like I'd blocked her way.

"What?" I asked, opening my milk and taking a sip as she continued on burning a hole with her eyes into whatever it was that had her attention. At my question, though, she shifted her eyes to me and sat normally.

"He's back in school and sitting right behind you," I groaned inwardly. I should of known. He'd been the talk of the school for over a week and, I should of figured, that on his first day back in school, he'd be brought up in conversation.

"I don't care," I said in a monotone. It was my usual response to anything Ty Baldwin related, his life of no interest to mine. However, now that his goal in life was to confuse, bug the hell out of, and stalk me...the three word answer took on a whole new meaning. Because, of course, I really did care. Now that I'd met him, talked to him, and been annoyed by him...I cared. I cared because I wanted him gone. I didn't want him and his cocksure ways sitting right behind me. If he'd been across the café and not within sight, then those words would mean the same thing as they had a week ago. But now...now I cared.

"We know, Amy," Kailey sighed, rolling her eyes. Ever since her fifteen minutes of fame at Ashley's table last week, she'd been sour. She'd been milked for all her information, then tossed back to us. I couldn't resent that though, Kailey had always been susceptible. "We're just stating a fact."

"And trying to get a look at him," Soraya once again leaned to the right to look over my shoulder. I didn't move. "If he'd just turn around, I could see." I stared at her in disbelief. This was ridiculous. Sure, he'd changed. Sure, he'd gotten cuter. But really, all of this was for nothing. He was just a guy. A guy none of them had probably talked to yet, so therefore didn't know how he could be. Looks weren't everything, and when it came to Ty, those words were one hundred percent true.

"I saw him," Lily chimed into the conversation, her hands free of Mark today since he was absent. "He's in my Economics class, right Amy?" I nodded, not willing to voice my opinions. Last week I'd been willing to stick up for him. I'd felt bad that he was being gossiped about when he'd been shunned his whole life. Now...now I knew that if I talked I'd probably talk about how, while he didn't deserve to be gossiped about for his looks, he should be gossiped about for the stalker-ish asshole that he was. I'd probably even stick something about his cockiness in there. It was something everyone should know about. Except, if I voiced my newfound opinions on him, the whole table would hone in one why I knew these things, and then they'd freak out over each situation. It wasn't worth it.

"He really did get hott," Bobbi said, abandoning her conversation with John and Casey, who, like me, could care less about the conversation they weren't about to join. At this statement, I really couldn't help but laugh a sarcastic laugh. A small one, barely noticeable, but of course, it was noticed.

"You don't think he did?" Soraya asked, stopping in her efforts to make Ty turn in his seat, with her mind, and look at her over my left shoulder.

"I didn't say anything," I was internally freaking out. Why couldn't I of kept my laugh to myself! I could of scoffed in my mind, not externally. Ugh, damn. It was like I couldn't help but push my own self-destruct button. What was my problem?

"You laughed, like Bobbi was wrong," Lily looked at me. "I, for one, agree with her. He got really good looking."

"Don't you have a boyfriend?" I snapped. And then, I felt it. I felt the back of a chair slightly colliding with my own. I heard Lily defending herself, something about being able to look at other guys, but I was focused on the back of my chair. Was it an accident? No. No, there it was again. The bastard was listening to our conversation, I just knew it. His little chair bumps were informing me that he heard every word I was uttering. He was enjoying the fact that I'd practically thrown myself to the sharks. Well, if he wanted to listen, he'd get a show.

"You're right, you can look, Lily," She seemed pleased with this. "I just don't agree with what you've chosen to look at." No chair bump. Good, he was listening.

"You really don't think he's cute, now?" Bobbi asked, truly stricken. Everyone who'd seen Ty had proclaimed that he'd morphed into an Abercrombie model.

"Not particularly," I took a bite of my pizza. "He's changed, I'll give you that, but I don't see the appeal."

"Well, I do," Casey finally took the bait and joined into the conversation. She'd been talking to John. They both didn't really care that Ty was back, but apparently she was opinionated on his looks. "The guy is practically a God now,"

Chair bump. He was really liking this. That chair bump was one that actually jarred me a little. The others were barely felt. Had I not been tuned into the back of my chair, I probably would have missed them. This one though, was stronger.

"Yeah, one that fell from Heaven and landed wrong," No chair bump. He didn't like that, did he?

"You're just mad because you've stuck up for him and now that he's back, he's made a bunch of friends. Apparently, middle school didn't bother him as much as you thought." Oh, Soraya knew how to play dirty. And I, being the girl I am, could not let her have the last word. So, going against all my judgement, I stuck up for him again.

"Or maybe he's taking advantage of the fact that people actually want to be friends with him now. Whether he does or not doesn't mean he still doesn't resent the fact that he was_ ostracized _as a kid." Soraya just rolled her eyes, obviously having had her fill of the conversation. I shrugged mentally, not really caring. I was done with it too. I lifted my tray, stood, and pushed my chair in noticeably.

* * *

_November 27__th__, 2008_

_Thanksgiving Day_

_-Friday_

"Hey, Lizzy, baby," I crooned, letting my fingers work their magic along her silky smooth coat. At my urging her whole body began to relax and her head sagged slightly. I kept up with my rhythmic motions for a few more minutes, enjoying it along with her. In only two weeks I had begun to calm her. Finally, after hours of searching through my mothers books, I came across a remedy that I had hope for. It called for many herbs that Heartland didn't carry and that I had to search for in an unknown and cramped herbal remedies store. It was worth it, though, when the remedy began to calm Lizzy almost instantly. A few days after giving it to her and she was willing to finally join-up. It took longer than usual, the remedy not working absolute miracles, but finally she relented. It had been a week since the join-up, and she was coming along nicely. She no longer bucked nor reared her riders. I'd had Ben, Soraya, and even Matt try and ride her, and she was nearly perfect for them. I was willing to give it a few more days to make sure, but she would be ready to go home within the week.

"Amy, dinner!" I heard Ben shouting from the farmhouse. I turned at his voice and smiled as I saw him shivering in the doorway, his coat already hung up, no doubt. I lifted up a hand to signal that I heard him, and turned away to bid Lizzy goodbye. I walked slowly away from her, not wanting to spook her, and climbed the paddock fence. The walk to the farmhouse wasn't far, but the frigid wind was finally making an impact on the light coat I had adorned, so I hurried my feet forward until I hit the door.

The scene inside was one of utter chaos. Lou was still at the stove, mumbling to herself. Grandpa was by the counter, neatly carving the turkey. Scott was searching frantically through a diaper bag at the table, throwing questions at Lou as he did so. She did not seem pleased. Ben, obviously impatient and hungry, was sitting at his spot at the table, playing with the fork that was laid out along his plate. Nancy came from within the living room and walked towards Jadyn, who was sitting at her high-chair, squealing and clapping and bouncing in her chair. I smiled at the whole scene before slipping out of my boots and hanging up my coat.

"I thought you said it was ready," I whispered to Ben, taking my seat next to him. The look he threw me said he thought it was too. I laughed at him before turning in my seat and watching as Lou poured corn into a dish and Grandpa lifted a large heaping plate of turkey and placed it in the center of the table. Not wanting to be wrangled into anything else, he quickly plucked Jadyn from Nancy's arms and then grabbed her hand. He led her to her seat, next to mine, and then placed Jadyn into her high-chair. He then sat in his seat, at the head of the table, sighing in relief.

Lou noticed that everyone was in there spots and glared noticeably. Finally, taking pity on Scott, or maybe it was impatience, she ripped the bag from his hands, stuck her own in, and quickly came out with a bib. Scott looked sheepish as she placed it around her daughters neck. She situated several heaping bowls of food around the table, before sitting herself.

"There," she sighed, content with her doings. "Dinner is served." She smiled, finally loosening up.

For the next hour and a half, the farmhouse kitchen was a postcard picture of the perfect Thanksgiving. There was laughter, eating, jokes, old stories, and new memories were made. I took all of this in when, finally, we all sat, full and content, just talking. I couldn't help but think of my mother. This wasn't the first Thanksgiving we'd had without her, but it made it no less hard. I remembered Thanksgivings when she would gag silently to herself over the cranberry sauce when she knew Grandpa wasn't looking. When she'd, traditionally, take a picture of the whole table smiling up at her. Not a single picture of the whole table at Thanksgiving ever included her...she always insisted on taking it. Remembering these small details made me smile, my eyes tearing up. After a moment I excused myself from the table, telling everyone I had to bring Lizzy in, incase it snowed.

I slipped on my boots and jacket and walked into the brisk air, noticing that flakes were already falling from the blackening sky. I watched my breath as I expelled, walking towards the paddock. I quickly attached the lead rope to Lizzy and walked her back to her stall. I ran a quick check of all the other horses before walking back to the paddock fence, climbing up and sitting along the top rail. Another tradition.

* * *

Flashback

November 24th, 1999

Thanksgiving Day

-Wednesday

"_Let's go," my mother whispered in my ear, her breath tickling along the side of my face as she breathed. I turned my head to look at her sitting next to me at the table, her blonde hair framing her face in waves, falling long below her shoulders. I felt a quick sense of pride that I had chosen to grow my hair out also. My hair, in contrast though, was light brown and pin-straight. A blessing from my father, mom always said._

"_Go where?" I asked, confused. We'd all been done eating for a while, and now we were just sitting and talking. Grandpa and Lou were involved in a conversation about Lou's boarding school. The one she had wanted to stay at over the Thanksgiving break, like she had for most of the summer. My mom had put her foot down, though, and had her flown back home against her will._

"_To check on the horses. Come on," she smiled and took my hand, standing up. "We're going to go check on the horses one more time, okay?" She informed the two other members of our family. Grandpa looked up at her voice and nodded, smiling. Lou ignored the proclamation all together. I couldn't tell if she just didn't care, of it she cared too much. Mom hadn't asked if she wanted to go. I almost reached out my hand to her, almost asked if she wanted to come along. But my hand, in my mothers, was already being tugged. And as we walked, clad in boots and jackets, I felt relieved that it was only us. I always loved doing things with my mom alone. She always seemed to teach me something new every time it was just us. _

"_We have to bring a few in, okay, sweetie?" I nodded up at her, hurrying my feet forward, ahead of her. At eight years of age it was hard to swing my small body over the paddock fence, but from experience, it looked nimble to anyone watching. I walked slowly towards a large chestnut, a lead rope in my hand. I gently stroked along her coat before attached the lead and heading back to the barn. I placed her in her stall and then ran back to the paddock, expecting to meet my mom on the way back, horse in pursuit. But I didn't. As I neared the fence I noticed a figure sitting along the top, body braced against the cold. I frowned, confused. I lifted myself up next to her, and looked out with her, watching several of the horses._

"_Sometimes I do this. Just sit here and watch them. Watch Heartland," she glanced back towards the farmhouse. "I'm so lucky," she breathed, her breath fogging in front of her. "So lucky to have Heartland. Your Grandpa. You. Lou. So damn lucky." I rarely heard my mother curse, even casually, but I didn't think twice about it. I was just listening to her voice._

"_So sometimes, I just watch." I watched too, along side her. My gloved hands chilling against the fence they held._

"_What about Daddy?" I cringed at the childish name for my father. I rarely mentioned him, and when I did, I made sure to use anything but that. It seemed too personal. Even at the tender age of eight, when I didn't understand fully what had happened when I was only three, I knew enough to know I'd been abandoned. However, sometimes it slipped. Instinct._

_She sighed, not liking where the subject had turned. "Your dad was a part of my life, and part of yours and Lou's life. I wouldn't change what I had with him for the world. He gave me you and your sister. He gave me Pegasus. And, in a way, he gave me Heartland."_ _I let this answer settle, accepting it, even though it wasn't what I meant. I wanted to know if she'd been happy with him. Happy without him. Happy with just me and Grandpa on the farm. Happy with Lou in England, pining for the father she lost when she was just a year older than me at the present time. Was that luck too, or just a twist in her story?_

_But I didn't ask those questions. I didn't even speak again. I just sat there with her, watching. As we did for years to come._

* * *

_Present_

"I'd kill to know what's going through your head right now," A soft voice interrupted the memory and brought me back to reality. I followed him with my eyes as he sat next to me on the fence, long legs braced against the board below.

"Memories," I murmured, shivering slightly as a gust of wind blew my hair around my face. I brushed it back, noticing the numbness in my hands. I had forgotten to wear gloves, and now my fingers were purple with cold.

"Oh yeah? Anything I'd remember too?" I started to shake my head before I stopped myself. It wasn't true. As he'd lifted himself to sit beside me, I'd remembered that day on the trail, months before.

"Maybe," I answer coyly, not letting him know what memory of him has flitted through my mind. But at my answer, I felt his gaze lingering on my face. And then I felt his fingers lace through mine, warming them. I welcomed the contact as heat made its way to my fingers.

"Amy, you know how sorry I am for all of that, right?" He asked, his voice low and sincere. I closed my eyes at his words, not sure if it was the right moment for this conversation.

"I know, Ben." I squeezed his hand, assuring him that I believed him.

"I never meant to hurt you, if that's what I did. I just didn't know how to handle myself," I laughed lightly, opening my eyes and looking into his. In the dark you'd think that the blue of his eyes would be hidden, but they weren't.

"Really? I never noticed," I was referring to all of our trail rides and stolen kisses in the tack room. He had always handled himself fine, with ease and experience. I saw him blush as he took in my meaning.

"I meant with us, as a couple," He sighed. "I'd just started working here, and I really didn't think that a relationship with you would make things easier." I looked at him with wide eyes, hurt.

"No!" He cursed. "I meant with starting a new job. I didn't _not _want to be with you, I just didn't know if it was right at the time."

"I know, Ben. Really, I understand now." I looked out towards the paddock. "At the time I was hurt. When I realized you were avoiding a relationship, I just pulled away. No more letting you pull me into the tack room, no more trail rides by ourselves." His hand loosened, remembering. "But I get it now, I do. I mean, our relationship was all heat of the moment. Nothing more."

"Maybe for you," his voice was low, close. When I turned in reaction to his response, he was right there. His lips on mine, moving in a gentle rhythm. I knew I should pull away, but instead I gave in. I moved my own lips against his, letting him in when he sought entrance. The hand he had held mine with unlaced from my fingers and instead cupped the back of my neck, pulling me even closer. His free hand rested along my thigh, caressing as it moved higher. Both hands worked magic as mine sat, clutching the board that we sat on. I was unsteady, losing my ground, and had to hold on.

"Ben," I murmured as he finally, gently, pulled away. He planted a kiss along my jaw, then my neck. He let himself fall to the inside of the paddock, pulling me along with him, kissing my neck again. He pulled the collar of my jacket slightly lower, kissing my collarbone. He left fire everywhere his lips traveled. His handed moved freely along my body, no longer worried about being precariously perched on the fence.

"Ben," I said again, stronger this time. I watched the breath fog in front of my face as his head lifted from my neck, looking me in the eyes.

"Amy," he answered, his voice husky and low. He wanted this, I knew he did. He wanted to keep going, to keep kissing me. As I thought this I felt one of his hands slip beneath my jacket, my shirt, and touch the bare skin of my lower back. His hands were freezing, but I barely noticed. My skin was so hot that it rivaled the cold of his.

"We can't do this," I groaned as he leaned forward to kiss along my neck again. I heard him groan too at my words, but felt his tongue along my skin.

"I mean it, Ben," I lifted my hands from around his neck, where they had been clutching, and placed them on his shoulders, pushing feebly. He raised his head, letting his tongue flick out along his bottom lip.

"Why?" He asked, his hand performing t-touch along my lower back. His other hand, that had been cradling my head as his mouth worked his magic, now joined his other hand, both stroking and rubbing the tension that lay there. Heat penetrated my thoughts for a moment, and he saw my hesitation and smiled. I could tell he wanted to take it as an invitation and kiss me again, but I also saw his restraint. He knew I wanted to talk, and couldn't when his mouth was wandering my body.

"Last time didn't end so well, if I remember correctly," I voiced, already feeling my body relenting towards the touch of his hands. I had to keep level ground. I couldn't let him melt me like he had last time. I couldn't let his touch keep me going.

"It'll be different," he said it like it was obvious, like there was no other answer.

"Different how?" His hands moved higher, lifting my jacket slightly around me, my skin bare to the cold. That is, until he pressed his body closer, the thick sweatshirt he wore pressing against the bareness of my stomach.

"Well, for one," He kissed the corner of my mouth, lingering as he spoke, "We won't stop if we think we hear someone." He kissed the other corner, lingering again. "We won't hide in the tack room or go on trail rides to sneak a kiss," He moved back to the other corner, kissing. "We won't pretend to be friends in front of everyone," One more time back on the other side. "It'll be real." He placed his lips on mine again, opening them without permission and kissing me until my knees went weak.

But I tried to hold my ground, once again. I grasped his head between my hands as my lips moved beneath his just as fiercely, but I pulled him away from them.

"We're just physical, Ben," I saw his broad smile. "Nothing more. We click as friends, but do we click as a couple?" I saw his raised eyebrow in the moonlight and his gaze lingered on my lips.

"I think we click amazingly well," He said, but stopped the movement of his hands along my back, starting to doubt. I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, _physically._ If our relationship lasted, it would be because ninety-five percent of the time we're touching each other!" He chuckled, but it sounded forced.

"That's not a relationship, Ben. We could tell everyone we're together, and hold hands and act the part. We'd do it well. We'd be good together when it came to that. But when it came to a real relationship, not a show for people, what would we be?" He dropped his gaze. "We'd be physical. Just like last time. We never talked, never. But we talk when we're friends. I don't want to lose that."

"Amy," His voice sounded hurt. "We've been friends for months now, nothing physical. We hold up conversations and have fun together. Before," he finally caught my eyes. "We barely knew each other. Now we do. I think it would be more than physical for us now. Now that we _are_ friends."

I let his reasoning sink into my mind before speaking. "Okay," he looked hopeful and I let my hands fall from where they rested on his shoulders. "Give me some time to think, and then we'll talk."

He looked hesitant to accept this. "How long?"

I rolled my eyes and sighed in frustration, "I don't know, Ben! This is different, and I really need to think about it. If you want to be with me so bad, you think you'd be willing to wait."

His eyes held only hurt, "I am willing to wait, Amy."

"Good," I went against my better judgement and roughly grabbed his head between my hands again and pulled him down to me, crushing my lips against his. I held him there, controlling a kiss like I never had before, and then let him go.

* * *

**Author Note: **_Where the hell is she going with this story? _That's what you're all asking, huh? Honestly, until I started writing the last scene, I had no idea that it was going to go this way. I had a totally different story in my head, but the last scene literally wrote itself. I had no say over it, it just flowed. And, since it did, I've revised my story a little to fit with it. I've already got the last chapter in my head, and am really excited to write it. I don't know how long this story is going to be...I'd say about 12 chapters. Not the longest story, but it was never meant to be lengthy. The story only spans over about 4 months. And we've already gotten through one. So...12 chapters seems about right. Oh, and please don't assume that because of the last scene that Amy is promiscuous. She really isn't, she knows what she's doing. By physical, I meant what they were doing in this scene. They never slept together or got close. She is a normal 17 year old who is susceptible to a kiss. I repeat, she is not promiscuous.

**Extra: **Ty's motorcycle that I'm sure everyone was dying to see, is a Yamaha 2008 FJR1300A. I understand that it is a sporty motorcycle, which is perfect for Ty. But it is also built to carry two and recommended for leisurely rides also. Not that any of you really care, but I love motorcycles and plan to have one at some point in my life. And right now, the FJR1300A is my baby. I want it.

**Picture:** For some reason I can't post the link here, so look in my profile for the link to his motorcycle.


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